


sweeter than you

by maddy_does (favefangirl)



Series: carry on countdown 2020 [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, M/M, Normal AU, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships With Food, body image issues, just about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:47:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27723698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/maddy_does
Summary: Baz is away on a year abroad, and maybe Simon isn't coping quite as well as he's trying to make out.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: carry on countdown 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026733
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	sweeter than you

**Author's Note:**

> Carry On Countdown Day 2, NOV 26: Distance
> 
>  *****TRIGGER WARNING*****  
>  the following work describes an unhealthy relationship with food, including overeating as a coping mechanism, body image issues, mentions of calorie counting, and the ascription of moral judgement to different types of food. please do not read if any of these things make you uncomfortable. the purpose of this work is not to glorify these issues, nor normalise. i recommend you seek the help of a professional if you are affected by these things. whilst none of them are necessarily resolved in this work, the assumption is that the characters for whom these issues affect will go on to seek help and develop a much healthier relationship with food. to reiterate, please do not read if you will find this material triggering. please stay safe. thank you.

Simon was panting heavily as he burst through the door to the flat he shared with Penny. She lifted her head out of the book she was reading to ask what the hell was going on, but Simon barely acknowledged her in his rush to get into his room. He chucked his backpack carelessly onto his bed and threw himself onto his desk chair. He hit the keys of his keyboard hard as he logged onto his laptop and pulled up Skype. He hit call and waited, holding his breath, watching the screen intently. Three days already this week he’d missed Baz’s call - he wasn’t going to make it a fourth. He waited, and waited, and waited. He checked his internet connection to see if there was an issue and found a perfect signal. He checked the contact he was calling in case he’d clicked on the wrong person. He waited for what felt like a lifetime before his phone buzzed in his pocket, and when he checked it it was a message from Baz.

_ Sorry. Something came up. Tomorrow? _

Simon deflated and clicked the red cross on the Skype window. All day he’d been looking forward to this call, to just hearing Baz’s voice and seeing his face. He’d barely listened at all to his Sparta lecturer that afternoon, too excited about finally getting to see his boyfriend after what felt like a lifetime apart.

Baz was on a year abroad in France. He was doing some credits on European law that apparently would help his chances of getting a job once he graduated. If his Instagram was anything to go by, then he was having a great time in Paris, eating at fancy restaurants and taking pictures by the Eiffel Tower. He’d sent Simon a picture of some crepe’s that he said he would’ve loved that apparently he got from a small street vendor he’d found whilst wandering the city.

That had been four days ago, and they hadn’t spoken properly since.

Simon tried not to let it bother him, he knew how busy Baz could get with work, and now he was trying to acquaint himself with a new set of modules and a new city - it was fair enough that his life was even more hectic than usual. Simon just mourned the fact that he couldn’t be a part of it all. Or, any of it, actually.

Forlorn, Simon huffed and went back to the living room. Penny asked if he was okay as he passed, and he grunted an affirmation before making his way to the kitchen. He grabbed some snacks from the cupboard and flicked on the kettle to make a tea. Penny appeared in the kitchen doorway as he was adding the sugar to his mug, and leaned against the frame with her eyebrows raised.

“So?” Simon squinted at her. “Are you going to tell me what’s got you looking like a kicked puppy?” Simon shrugged as the kettle boiled, and turned his back on her to pour the water. “Fine, fine. Do what you want.”

When Simon turned around to grab the milk from the fridge, she’d disappeared back into the living room. He didn’t mean to be so aloof with Penny, nor to take it out on her. It wasn’t her fault that Baz didn’t have time for him right now, and probably, actually, she was missing him too. It wasn’t fair to be so cold towards her.

It’s just that every time he looked at her he thought of her and Micah, her American ex-boyfriend, and how utterly dismal that ended up. They drifted apart for years before finally ending it, and that had been anything but a clean break - a Skype call where Micah had introduced his new girlfriend, and then acted surprised that Penny thought they were still together. Penny had been a heartbroken mess after that, and Simon didn’t know what he’d do if he ended up in that same position.

He took the tea and the biscuits back into his room, and Penny didn’t even look up as he passed. He put everything down on his desk, then went to his wardrobe. Most of his clothes were strewn across the bottom in a crinkled heap, but his favourite jumper was hung up neatly away from the chaos. It was Baz’s, technically, and still smelled faintly like him, though that was fading more quickly than Simon wished. 

He tugged off his own hoodie and t-shirt, and then pulled the jumper on. It was getting a little tight in the arms, and didn’t rest as well on his hips as it used to, but it wasn’t really meant to look good. He sat down at his desk and opened a bag of crisps. He began eating them as he opened his phone back up, smearing a little grease on the screen. 

_ Sure.  _ He texted back to Baz.  _ What time? _

He stared down at his phone as he demolished the first bag of crisps as though he would get an immediate text back. When he didn’t he went over to grab the textbooks out of his bag to get to work on his essay for next week. It was on the poetry of Alkman, so it wasn’t too challenging, but as he opened up Word on his laptop (at the same time as he opened a second bag of crisps) he couldn’t get himself to focus on the annotations he’d made in the books. 

He quickly finished the second bag of crisps and was reaching for a pack of custard creams when he heard a knock at the door. He turned around and it was Penny, standing there with her arms folded. “I’m just making dinner if you’re hungry. Dhal?” 

Simon looked between the biscuits in his hand and Penny. “I can just heat some up later,” he said.

Penny bit the inside of her cheeks, then let go and nodded. She closed Simon’s door as she left, and he turned back to the empty page in front of him. He shoved an entire biscuit in his mouth as he swapped which textbook was open in front of him, hoping that if he looked at a different set of notes, he might get inspired, but to no avail. Instead, he ended up scrolling through TikTok for an hour, before calling it a day and closing his laptop. He’d finished the custard creams, so he chucked all the wrappers away into the bin. 

Whatever Penny was cooking smelled really good, so he went to the kitchen to go see. She was humming a song Simon didn’t recognise, and bopping a little to it as it played through her phone speaker. She pushed her glasses up her nose with her knuckle as she stirred the food in the pot in front of her. She looked totally carefree and happy.

It hadn’t been like that for a long time after Micah. She shut herself away with her books, barely speaking to anyone and barely eating. She broke down to Simon, once, after he’d been probing her all day to eat something, saying that she just felt empty without him. Later she would say that it was just a comfort thing - the knowledge that she had someone (or so she had thought) that was her guaranteed person, and the distance, either geographical or emotional, didn’t matter. They’d promised, and she thought they’d keep it.

Baz promised at the gate at the airport that they wouldn’t drift apart, and they definitely wouldn’t break up. He’d even kissed Simon, in public, in front of all of the people waiting to board their flight to Paris. He never kissed Simon in public. Most of the time he wouldn’t even hold his hand, however much they would spend time at home all but sat on each other’s laps. 

Simon swallowed a lump in his throat at the thought that the kiss may actually have been a goodbye.

Penny turned and jumped when she saw him. “Simon, god, don’t loiter!” He had to smile at how much she sounded like her mum. “You sure you don’t want some now? It’s basically done.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, and came into the kitchen to grab them each a bowl. 

It was comfortable moving around the kitchen with Penny, a routine they’d been practising for a while, but it did make Simon nostalgic for when it w ould be he and Baz cooking together. Well, together might be a generous term - when it was Baz cooking and Simon handing him things. Often they’d have opened a bottle of wine to eat with what they were cooking because Baz was a little pretentious about that, but if it ever made it to the time the food was served it was a miracle. They’d both be a little drunk by the time the food was even half cooked. 

Simon was so far in his own head that he nearly dropped the bowl he was passing to Penny. She rolled her eyes at him but made no comment for which he was thankful. It was becoming somewhat of a hobby for her to have a go at him for the way he was acting about Baz being gone. She thought he was ridiculous, he’d only been away a week, and it wasn’t like they hadn’t seen each other every single day up to his departure. Simon often wondered if what happened with Micah had eroded all her patience for love.

Simon thought about that - love - as he ladled the dhal into his bowl. He’d spent the week before Baz left psyching himself up to finally say it. A few times it had been right on the tip of his tongue, but he hadn’t quite managed to get it out. They’d been dating (or, at least, they’d been boyfriends) for about a year and a half by then, and it was the best thing to ever happen to Simon.

He went to bed that night with an uncomfortably full stomach after eating two bowls of dhal and ice cream for dessert. He curled up in the foetal position in an attempt to make himself comfortable and thought of tomorrow when he’d finally get to speak to Baz again. He struggled to believe he’d only been gone just over a week, not when it felt like an eternity. All he wanted was to just see his face and hear his voice and ask about his day.

He began to wonder if Baz felt the same way when he awoke the next morning to find a message on his phone saying that Baz was busy and would have to take a rain check. Simon pressed his lips together hard, and took a deep breath through his nose. It was fine, he thought, he had that essay work to do anyway. It was probably a good thing, really, that Baz couldn’t make the call.

He told himself the same thing the next day when he got the same message. He ate a pack of bourbons for breakfast, managed to drag himself into the shower, and then sat on the sofa in a blanket eating a box of chocolates. Penny paused when she saw him, but didn’t say anything, just pursed her lips and carried on into the kitchen. She was good enough to bring him some toast, though, and took the chocolates away.

The next day Simon wasn’t feeling hopeful. He rushed his essay in a couple of hours and handed it in a minute before the deadline. He went to lunch with a friend from his course, then came home to have a bag of crisps and a scroll through his Instagram feed. Baz had posted some more pictures of Paris, including a picture of himself grinning outside of some old French bookshop. Simon scrolled past it, his stomach clenching uncomfortably at the sight. 

He managed to get himself to his desk later that day, but wasn’t confident he was going to get a reply. He sat slouched in his chair as he stared at the screen. With a sigh, he leaned forwards to end the call when there was no answer after what felt like forever but was probably only a couple of minutes, tops. He was shocked when the screen changed, and suddenly he was staring at Baz’s face instead of his own. He looked particularly pale through the poor quality camera, and he looked like he hadn’t shaved since the last time Simon had seen him, but it actually kind of suited him. He smiled when he saw Simon.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hi,” Simon replied on an exhale. It had been so long since hearing his voice. “How’re you?”

“I’m good. Busy. How’re you? What’ve you been up to?”

“I’m okay,” Simon said, pretending it wasn’t a complete lie. “Missing you.” He shrugged and sat up properly in his chair. “I’ve just been doing my coursework. Essays, seminar reading, you know how it is.”

“Yeah, the schedule here is pretty mad too.” 

Simon expected Baz to elaborate, but he didn’t. He just sat there smiling at the camera. When Simon couldn’t cope with the silence any longer he asked, “What have you been doing?”

Baz broke into a grin. “Oh my god, Snow, it’s amazing here! We went to the Eiffel tower and went right to the top and let me tell you, the view…”

But Simon had stopped listening. Snow. He’d called him Snow. He never called him Snow, not when they were alone together, not when they were being soft. Simon had to swallow a couple of times around the lump in his throat and he scratched at his hand below the desk to focus his own attention and try to stave off the panic attack he could feel coming. He took a deep breath. Then another. After the third he felt like he could just about breathe again.

“... and I got this old leather-bound edition of Twelfth Night that is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And, God, we went to this crepe place-”

“Sorry Baz,” Simon interrupted, too loud for his tiny bedroom. “Um, I have a lot of work and stuff so yeah. I gotta go.”

Baz’s eyebrows knitted together in a frown. “Okay? I guess we’ll talk in a few days then?”

“Yep,” Simon replied quickly before clicking off the call and slamming his laptop closed.

Inside his head all he kept hearing was snowsnowsnowsnowsnow. He didn’t understand. First Baz spent the better part of two weeks avoiding calling, and then when he finally did, he called him Snow. Simon was shaky on his feet when he got up and made his way into the kitchen. He grabbed some leftover cake from in the fridge, and some cheese crackers, as well as a bottle of wine Baz had bought ages ago that they never got around to drinking. He went back into his room and ate the lot, washing it down with the wine, taking long gulps until his stomach hurt. Then he crawled under his duvet, uncomfortable and covered in crumbs, and sobbed until sleep came. 

A few days turned out to be another two weeks. They spoke via message between then, a quick hi how are you every now and then that never managed to flourish into a proper conversation. Simon tried to spend his time throwing himself into his coursework, doing the extra reading he had vetoed all year and going to socials with the people on his course. Mostly, though, he just sat in bed, stalking Baz’s Instagram feed and eating Gregg's pastries. Baz’s jumper had long stopped smelling like him, and it was now far too tight to wear anymore.

Penny made a point to ask Simon how he was at least three times a day which, though it was clearly an attempt at care, was really more irritating than anything else. He felt patronised and babied in the worst way. Honestly, he would’ve preferred just to be left alone. Or, he didn’t want to be alone, he just wanted Baz, and if he couldn’t have that then he wanted nothing. 

He found himself struggling to get his work done because he’d be halfway through an essay on the importance of Herodotus to the history of the Athenian empire when he’d end up staring into space for half an hour, thinking about how casually Baz had called him ‘Snow’. Lectures were worse. He barely took in any of what was said to him and more often than not had to ask a friend if he could borrow their lecture notes so he didn’t fall behind. Whenever Penny or Baz asked how he was coping with his work, however, he always lied and said it was going great. He didn’t want Penny to worry, and especially not Baz.

Still, they were both well practised at reading him like a book so as much as he tried to say that he was fine, and uni was fine, and everything was fine, they would both remind him that they were there if he needed a talk. Penny liked to talk about how Baz would be home for Christmas in a month, and they could spend it together. Usually she would start listing all Simon’s favourite Christmas foods (pigs in blankets, Agatha’s homemade Yorkshire puddings, onion gravy, and the terry’s chocolate orange that Simon’s tutor, Ebb, would get him every year) but for some reason she’d not brought it up in a while. 

They finally rearranged the call for October 31st - Halloween. Simon’s friend from his course, Shepard, had invited him out for a pub crawl with some of his housemates, but Simon had declined. Nothing was more important to him than talking to Baz, not even having a night out on Halloween.

Simon sat at his computer for a full ten minutes before they’d agreed on the call, leg bouncing up and down, eating a bowl full of sweets he and Penny had bought for their planned night in with some scary movies which had fallen apart when Baz had asked to call tonight, and Agatha invited Penny out to a party with her. He was halfway down the bowl when Baz finally called. Simon’s answer was instantaneous, and he could see his own grin in the corner of the screen when Baz’s face appeared. When Baz smiled back, Simon saw two little fangs poking out of his mouth.

With a confused frown he asked, “Were we meant to dress up?”

Baz laughed. “No, I’m going to a party after this. I didn’t think I’d have time to get dressed up after the call.”

Simon deflated a little. He’d assumed that he and Baz would be talking for hours. It had been weeks since they’d last spoken face to face, and even longer since they’d had a proper conversation about, well, anything really. Clearly Baz wasn’t on the same page. He looked adorable as he fiddled with the fake teeth, but Simon was so upset he couldn’t even fully appreciate it.

“So,” he asked around a thick throat, “how’re you?”

“I’m alright. Tired and overworked, but what else is new.” Baz huffed a laugh like anything about this situation was funny. “I thought it’d be like a holiday, but honestly it’s more work than back home!” Simon nodded and hummed, not quite sure he’d be able to form words. “You?”

Simon nodded again, and when he opened his mouth to reply there was an audible clack. “Yeah, the same.” There was a long pause where they just looked at each other, Baz wearing a placid smile, eyes flicking to the corner of his screen intermittently, no doubt to where his clock was, reminding him how much party time he was wasting talking to Simon. Without really knowing where the bravery came from, Simon added “Missing you, too.”

Baz’s smile flickered, and Simon wondered if he was about to say it back. Instead, Baz changed the subject. “Um, I was walking around this little Parisian village the other day and they had the most amazing…”

Simon continued to listen, but it was half-hearted. All he’d wanted, all he’d  _ needed _ , was some kind of acknowledgement from Baz that there was something for them to try and work with here, that this wasn’t going to be the end of them, because frankly, at this point, Simon wasn’t sure if they’d last. He knew how common it was for Uni relationships to crumble, and the thought that maybe he and Baz would be over … he didn’t know how he’d cope.

He didn’t realise he was stuffing his face with some of the Haribo in the bowl until Baz frowned, pausing mid-sentence to ask, “Are you eating sweets?”

Simon shrugged. “It’s Halloween.”

Baz’s frown deepened, and he looked out of shot for a moment before turning back to Simon. “Look, Penny’s said that you’ve been eating a lot lately. Like, more than usual. Is that… What’s up with that?”

Simon’s face turned incredibly warm and he knew he’d be bright red if he checked himself in the corner of the screen. How utterly humiliating that they were, what? Gossiping about him behind his back? Had Penny spoken to his boyfriend more than he had? And to talk about how much he was eating - what business of that was theirs? The room suddenly felt stifling, and he could feel tears prickling at his eyes.

“What the hell! I’m an adult, I can eat what I want! And I’d thank you and Penny to stay out of my business!”

“Simon I-”

“No, fuck you! Fuck both of you!”

“I’m really sorry,” Baz pressed, looking a little desperate. “I didn’t mean anything by it, of course you can eat what you want. We both just want to make sure you’re being healthy.”

Simon huffed. “Whatever,” he mumbled, picking at his nail. “Go to your party, Baz. We’ll talk later.”

Baz may have tried to protest, but Simon had already closed the call. He sat back trying to even out his ragged breathing, fighting against the embarrassment of his friend and boyfriend talking behind his back about him. Was he not a grown man? Could they not talk to  _ him  _ about what he was eating before running to each other to talk about how incapable a human being he was? That he can’t even feed himself properly?

Simon received a message from Baz a minute or so later, but he ignored it and turned his phone off completely, before crawling into bed and eating the rest of the sweets until he felt sick.

He stayed angry at the both of them for days after that. Penny tried to apologise every time they passed each other, but Simon ignored her for the most part. He didn’t reply to any of Baz’s texts, either, which was even harder. In the end he simply missed them both too much to keep going with the silent treatment, but he did make clear to them both that he would not tolerate any more going behind his back. He sounded a lot more convincing than he felt. 

He did think about it a lot though. Every time he cooked something, or grabbed a snack, what he was eating, how much. He downloaded a calorie tracking app to his phone, but he was alarmed by how high the number was so he quickly deleted it again, had a bag of crisps to comfort himself and got half way through them before feeling sick. 

It was another two weeks before Baz got around to calling again. Another two weeks of stilted conversations over text, of Penny’s pitying looks, of getting his hopes up only to have them crushed almost instantly. Simon was miserable by the time the call finally came - he missed Baz more than anything in the world, and he hated that apparently this wasn’t reciprocated. 

He sat at his computer waiting for the call, leg bouncing, biting at the skin around his thumb. There was a half empty pack of custard creams on his desk in front of him, but he resisted the temptation to eat the rest. When he received the call notification, he took a laborious breath before answering. Still, he couldn’t help but smile when Baz’s face lit up his screen.

“Hi,” he said softly, overwhelmed with how much he just wanted Baz  _ home _ . 

“Hey,” Baz replied. His eyes flicked off screen and he pulled a face before looking back to Simon. “How’re you?”

Simon ignored that he was probably still talking about the eating. “I’m alright. Busy with uni. You?”

“Same. This module on Human Rights is driving me nuts.”

“Is it difficult?”

“No, not really, the law is just so different to what I’m used to.” Baz shrugged. “It’s kinda interesting though. We were looking at Freedom of Expression in our lecture today and its limitations. Turns out my father  _ technically  _ wasn’t breaching my Human Rights.”

Simon laughed, even though the joke wasn’t very funny, because he missed Baz’s self-deprecating humour. “You can’t sue him then?”

Baz smiled at that. “Unfortunately not.”

They stayed like that for a minute, just smiling at each other, letting the joke hang between them. It was the most comfortable Simon had felt since Baz had left. It felt … normal. Or, as normal as talking to someone through your laptop screen can feel. Simon felt himself letting some of the tension in his body go as he relaxed into his chair.

“So, I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about something,” Baz said, and just like that the tension was back. Baz’s eyes flicked off camera again and Simon thought he heard a faint noise. Baz squinted and shook his head before looking back to Simon. “Uhhh, yeah I needed to tell you about somethi-” 

He broke off to say something that sounded a little exasperated to whatever was behind the laptop, but it was in French so Simon didn’t have any idea what it was. He heard the sound of another man’s laughter, and then a loud response, also in French. Baz laughed at him and flipped him the bird. More French from the other man, and then Baz replied and blew him a kiss. When he  _ finally  _ looked back at Simon, he was smiling so wide his eyes were crinkled.

“Baz-” Simon said, panicked, heart beating so hard and fast he felt like he might be having a stroke.

Because it all made sense now - the distant behaviour, the infrequent contact, the fact that Baz always looked happier on his Instagram than he did on these calls. He’d found someone else and just didn’t know how to tell him! He’d gone through this exact same thing with Penny and Micah, how had he been too stupid to see what was going on right in front of his nose!

“Simon,” Baz said, ignoring what Simon had just said, “This is Thomas.” 

A tall, tan, dark haired boy appeared in shot. His hair was down to his shoulders, and he was sporting a similar dusting of facial hair to Baz. He had immaculate bone structure, and when he smiled, his teeth were perfectly white. “Salut!” He said in a surprisingly deep voice.

Simon stared on in horror. This was really it. This was really the end of he and Baz. Thomas looked between Simon and Baz and his grin only grew. He said something to Baz in French that had Baz smiling up at him, fondly, and Simon couldn’t take anymore. He ended the call, slammed close his laptop, and stood up in one quick motion. There were tears prickling at his eyes, his heartbeat was through the roof, he was warm all over. He tried to force his breaths to calm down but he couldn’t. He made a dash for the bathroom and had just made it to the toilet when the contents of his dinner came right back up. He was sick until he was dry heaving, stomach muscles cramping painfully as he stayed hunched over the toilet bowl, throwing up nothing. He stayed like that until he stopped convulsing, forehead pressed against the cool porcelain of the toilet seat, sweaty and in pain.

He took some calming breaths then pressed off the toilet. He got shakily to his feet and wiped the mixture of vomit and saliva off his chin with the sleeve of his hoodie. He flushed the toilet and then turned to look at himself in the mirror. He was pale, the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent, and his hair was sticking to his forehead. 

He pulled off his hoodie, t-shirt, shimmied out of his jeans, until he was stood in front of the floor length mirror in just his boxers. He stared at himself, at his body, trying to see what Baz must see every time he looked at him. The birds nest of hair that never sat right, the plain blue eyes, the nose that broke in a fight as a kid that never set properly. He opened his mouth to smile and noted the slightly yellow, crooked teeth because no one ever cared if he brushed his teeth or not, and he could count on one hand the number of times he’d ever been to a dentist. He sucked in his cheeks to try and give himself a jawline like Thomas’, but there was too much flesh so it didn’t work. He looked down at his body, at the way his chest sagged. He took a thick roll of skin on his belly and pinched it until it hurt. Baz and Penny may have been right about him eating too much, but he’d always been chubby. This had always been the body Baz had had to force himself to love. 

Simon closed his eyes as the tears began to trickle down his cheeks. 

It was no wonder, really, was it that Baz has found someone else. Baz was tall, lean, with surprisingly cold eyes for his warm, dark complexion. His hair was always immaculate, and he’d always had a certain level of muscle from his time playing football for the University team. He was handsome and fit, and half the girls in their year (if not the university as a whole) had thrown themselves at him at some point or another. Many of the boys, too.

When they’d first met they’d hated each other. Baz was arrogant and pretentious, and he looked down on pretty much everyone else -  _ especially  _ Simon. He thought Simon was annoying, clumsy, socially awkward and emotionally stunted. They’d attended the same sixth form at the time, and Baz was top of every class while Simon was mostly just scraping by (thank the lord for unconditional offers). They spent two years at each other’s throats, trying to actively sabotage each other. That was until the summer before uni when they’d been paired together for an induction project to help them with study skills and settling into university life. They had bickered constantly until, fuelled by pent up anger at how pedantic Baz was being about something that  _ didn’t even matter, oh my God, why is this even an issue,  _ Simon grabbed him by the jacket and kissed him. (He’d meant to punch him, he didn’t even know what he was doing until Baz was kissing back).

They still bickered all the time, but it was almost entirely fond now, and Baz was still pretentious and annoying, but somehow Simon was actually kind of endeared by it? And Baz was trying to be better, to let things go and drop his grandiosity when he knew he was going too far. Simon thought that might’ve been his influence, but now he wasn’t so sure. 

He ignored any calls and texts he received off Baz. It was already abundantly clear that they were broken up, Simon didn’t need the mortification of actually having to hear the words thank you very much. He sleep walked through his lectures, made half-hearted attempts to complete his essays, and avoided all social interaction outside of his lectures. Every time he ate he would pinch at the skin on his belly and fight the urge to throw it all back up. 

Over the first few days Penny was a nightmare. She bombarded him with questions about what was going on even though it was abundantly clear that Simon didn’t want to answer any of them. He mostly ignored her until she brought up Baz by name about a week after the incident.

“Baz said you just hung up on him? What the hell is that all about?” Simon rounded on her. So, he was going to play the victim here? Fine. Simon had hoped they’d be mature about it, but whatever. 

“Whose side are you on, exactly?” Simon demanded.

“Why do I need to take sides?” Penny retorted, eyebrows raised.

“He’s got a new bloke.” Penny’s expression quickly turned to a frown. “Some Frenchie named Thomas.” Simon over-emphasised the pronunciation of his name then bit then stopped when he realised that was something Baz would do. “Whatever. We’re over. And since you’re my best friend, I’d hoped you’d be on my side.”

“I just don’t get it…”

“What’s there to get, Penny?” Simon took a pause when Penny started at his raised voice. “Baz found someone better.” He shrugged. “I’m already over it.”

His version of ‘over it’ may have involved an awful lot of alcohol - vodka, it had the least calories - and pity eating - fruit, because that was healthy, right? - but still. He barely even thought about Baz. And in his own opinion, he was doing absolutely fine, thanks. Penny wasn’t even getting on at him about things, so he must have been at least passably okay. She had a tendency to go all mother-hen on him when he wasn’t.

Christmas break proved an unforeseen problem. At least 75% of his coping mechanism was his school work and the schedule it provided. Without it, he found himself slipping back into eating all the time and sleeping too much. Shepard had gone back to the states for the holidays, but not before making them a huge ‘traditional’ thanksgiving meal. Simon had eaten until his stomach hurt, then drank four cups of coffee because he’d read that helped with metabolism. It also meant that he didn’t have much of a distraction. He even resorted to texting Agatha to see if she wanted to hang out, but inevitably he was declined - she liked to spend time with them as a group, but tended to have little patience one on one.

The day Baz was set to fly home, he demolished two share-bags of Magic Stars before he even realised what he was doing, then spent the rest of the afternoon laying in bed, periodically crying, and trying to grip the skin on his arms so tight that the fat would come off. Or, until the stretchmarks disappeared. Simon vaguely remembered one time after they’d had sex where Baz had traced the ones right over the crease his elbow, and cried again at how much disgust he must’ve felt in that moment. 

He told Penny to piss off that evening when there was a knock on his door because honestly, this was still ‘over it’, technically. He didn’t need her coming in here and worrying after him. He felt pathetic enough as it was. He felt like the world stopped spinning on its axis when the door opened anyway, and instead of Penny, Baz stepped in. He took one look around the room and seemed to sag a little.

“Oh, Love,” he said softly, closing the door behind him, and just like that Simon had gone from pathetic to enraged.

“Don’t you dare call me that!” He hissed. So what if there were empty bottles of vodka strewn across the place, and so what if his bin was full of sweet wrappers, and so what if there was an empty tub of roses on his bedside table, and  _ so what _ , if there were four empty packets of crisps on his desk next to the assortment of plates, bowls and cups. He didn’t need Baz to be pitying him!

“ _ Simon _ ,” Baz said, and Simon couldn’t tell if it was pleading, exasperated, or just sad. Baz closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and seemed to calm himself. “Look, if you want me to go I will, but don’t you think I at least deserve an explanation here?” Simon scoffed and wriggled further into the pile of blankets he was wrapped in. “No? Nothing? You’re just gonna keep ignoring me?” 

Simon stayed silent for what could only have been a minute but that felt like an eternity before turning to Baz. He was turned to face the wall with a stony expression on his face, balls clenched into fists, and tears in his eyes. Simon frowned. Was he really going to keep trying to play the victim here? After everything?

“ _ You’re  _ going to just keep pretending like this is on me?” Simon countered.

“I don’t know, Simon. You hang up on me in the middle of a phone call, which was really rude on Thomas by the way. Then you don’t answer my texts or calls and-”

“ _ Rude on Thomas _ ? Are you kidding me right now? Sorry if I offended your boyfriend, maybe we should arrange a second meeting for me to apologise!” Simon was shouting at this point. He was sat bolt upright with the blankets around his waist. 

“ _ Boyfriend _ ?”

“Fuck buddy, special friend,  _ love of your life _ , whatever you want to call him.” Baz froze, then exhaled slowly and closed his eyes in a ‘give me strength’ gesture. Simon had to hand it to him, this playing the victim was a truly Oscar worthy performance.

“Thomas is a friend.  _ Just  _ a friend. Why would you think any different? What, you think that I’m just going to swan off to Paris and start hooking up with every French guy in sight? Is that how little you trust me?” Baz even had the gall to look hurt. The performance was starting to wear really thin now, actually.

“Cut it out, Baz. I’m not an idiot. You’re 200 miles away, you’re in the city of love, we’re barely speaking. I mean it’s the perfect opportunity to finally find someone else!”

Baz stared at him for a second then frowned. “No, Simon, you’re a  _ complete  _ idiot.” He huffed, and turned away for a second, lips pressed tight together. He turned back around and his voice broke as he began, “A monumental fucking  _ idiot _ , if you think that I didn’t spend every second since I got on that plane missing you. I was in the city of love and everything reminded me of you and how much I just wanted to see you. I couldn’t even speak to you on the phone because it was torture seeing you and not being able to touch you. I didn’t find anyone else.”

This didn’t make any sense. This had to all be a lie. Simon was pretty good at reading Baz and he  _ looked  _ like he was telling the truth, but that didn’t add up. He’d seen it all before with Micah and Penny. All the signs were there! … Right?

“But… Why wouldn’t you?” Simon thought back to Thomas’ chiselled jawline, his soft eyes. “All those handsome French guys? They’re on your level?” Baz frowned and shook his head like he didn’t understand. “They’re smart and fit and cultured, like you? You could’ve found someone better.”

“But I don’t want someone else, I want you!”

Now Simon was really sure he must’ve been lying. “Why?”

“Wh… Why?” Baz shook his head, exasperated. “ _ Why _ ? Because you complete prat, I love you! And I only want to be with you! What about this aren’t you understanding!”

Simon stared at him. Surely, surely Baz wouldn’t lie about that. So then, that must mean he was telling the truth. No Thomas, no other handsome French blokes, no cheating. He stayed completely faithful to his stupid boyfriend who let his own insecurity cloud his judgement and broke them up for no good reason.

“Fuck,” he whispered, staring down at the bed. He looked up at Baz and could barely breath. “Fuck, Baz I’m so sorry,” he couldn’t help the tears. “I’m so fucking sorry I thought - “ He shook his head trying to catch his breath. “Of course I trust you I just -”

Baz shushed him and moved quickly from the door to his bed. He pushed aside the duvet to curl up next to him beneath the blankets. “It’s okay,” he said softly as Simon turned to lay facing him. He wiped a tear with a gentle thumb. “I don’t know why you think I’d ever want anyone else.”

Simon shook his head. “I’m so sorry.” He swallowed and wiped at his runny eyes and runny nose. “I love you too, by the way. I was meant to say it before you left but… I don’t know. I chickened out.”

Baz laughed softly and pressed a kiss to his cheekbone. “It’s alright. The only reason Thomas wanted to meet you was because when I get drunk all I do is talk about how much I love you.”

Simon laughed and kissed him softly. He couldn’t believe it had been three months since the last time he’d been able to do that. Baz grinned and kissed Simon back, longer this time. Simon wrapped his arms around Baz’s shoulders and pulled him in closer. Any space was too much space between them.

“I’m sorry about being rude to you friend,” Simon whispered into the space between them, later, when they’d kissed for so long that his mouth began to hurt.

“You can apologise to him yourself.” Simon tensed, fearing that he’d been waiting outside this whole time, and widened his eyes. “He’s invited us both to his parent’s chateau in summer, a double date thing, us and then him and his girlfriend. It’s what I wanted to ask you.”

“I’m really sorry,” Simon replied, squeezing his eyes closed.

“It’s fine. He actually thought he’d offended you when he’d said how cute you were.” Baz shrugged. “We can call him tomorrow though, if you want to say sorry to him beforehand.” Simon nodded, feelings his eyes start to slip close. He’d had a long, emotional day and was exhausted. He heard Baz chuckle, then felt him snuggle closer. He ran a delicate finger across on the the stretchmarks on Simon’s arm, then pressed a kiss to his eyelid. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, probably assuming Simon was asleep.

Simon wasn’t sure he agreed, but he wasn’t going to question it. Not with Baz in his arms, right where he should be.

**Author's Note:**

> to reiterate the beginning note:
> 
>  *****TRIGGER WARNING*****  
>  this work describes an unhealthy relationship with food, including overeating as a coping mechanism, body image issues, mentions of calorie counting, and the ascription of moral judgement to different types of food. please do not read if any of these things make you uncomfortable. the purpose of this work is not to glorify these issues, nor normalise. i recommend you seek the help of a professional if you are affected by these things. whilst none of them are necessarily resolved in this work, the assumption is that the characters for whom these issues affect will go on to seek help and develop a much healthier relationship with food. to reiterate, please do not read if you will find this material triggering. please stay safe. thank you.
> 
> this all got a lot longer than i meant it to, whoops. thanks for sticking with it though!
> 
> yes, simon is representation of my attitude to uni work. yes, baz is who i wish was a representation of my attitude to uni work.
> 
> anyway, if you wanna leave a comment or a kudos they're much appreciated! especially let me know if there's something you think i forgot to tag! i'm not sure how great my tenses were here because i got all confused in the drafting process, so let me know about that, and ESPECIALLY let me know if there's something else i can do to ensure that people who may be negatively affected don't read this work! thanks!
> 
> i'm taking prompts! if you're interested please drop the prompt in the comments below. if you do send a prompt be prepared for me to take fifty years to fill it because school is so hard (or, i guess, uni now, lol), but i promise i'll try! come say hi on tumblr: [@maddy-does](https://maddy-does.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading, have a wonderful existence.


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